Requiem for Loving Sara
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Grissom's thoughts on losing Sara to Greg... takes place a few days before 'Waking Gregory.' Number 12 in the Ducks in a Row Series.


Requiem for Loving Sara

Grissom's thoughts on losing Sara to Greg.

Gil Grissom had succeeded in numerous ventures in his 49 years. He had become an accomplished entomologist, had become supervisor of the most notorious shift in the country's most decorated crime lab, he had the largest collection of all his 'bug buddies,' and he carried numerous degrees from some of the most prestigious universities in the country, along with a diverse resume.

What he didn't have was currently walking around the lab, reviewing a case, with a diamond on her finger.

He had taken no notice of when her advances had ceased. He always thought it was professionally inappropriate for them to be romantically involved. When he first met her, she was one of his students. A professor sleeping with a student is unacceptable. When she came to work with him in San Francisco, while they became as equal professionally as they would ever be, he rejected her still, thought of her as his student and not as his colleague. And when he handpicked her to join him in Las Vegas, his hopes of starting something were shunted by his abrupt promotion and strict conduct guidelines.

He hated hurting her as he did, all those years ago. He had pushed her away, his love for his career greater than his love for her bright smile and curly brown hair that was so easily jostled by the light Nevada breeze. He was months from fifty, and all he had to show for his labors and sacrifices were the insects in frames on the walls of his living room.

Her hair had begun to show a flicker of age, as he would spot a flash of a white strand once in a while. She had just turned 34 years old. Still young enough to light up the room with her grin, but he doubted that talent would ever leave her. Laugh lines that had not been around her eyes in her youth had just started to show in the last few months. He heard Nick point them out to her a few weeks back, teasing her on her birthday. She had only smiled in return and blamed it on Greg.

It was that day that he realized he had lost Sara Sidle forever. Blaming laugh lines on the quirky lab rat turned field mouse, as the younger CSIs dubbed him, spoke volumes to him.

It was Greg who made her smile.

Greg, who held her tightly.

Greg, who made her laugh.

Greg, who had won her over; captured her heart.

She was gone. He had missed his chance. He had missed thirteen years of chances.

Now he stood just outside of the break room, listening to Sara and Greg tell the others their plans for a tiny wedding in a tiny chapel outside of Las Vegas, cleverly avoiding inquiries of the nature of the proposal. He was glad that she was happy, but he couldn't help feeling as if she had dipped her hand into his chest and tore out his heart, and carelessly tossed it aside, wasted on her and the promise of happiness that she once held for them.

Karma was definitely a bitch.

He retreated back to his office, where he could just make out Greg in the break room, intently brewing another pot of coffee, helping Sara spill the details of their wedding, only a few months away. He looked older somehow, radiating energy all over the lab, wearing an old pair of corduroys and a simple black tee shirt. His hair had lost it's zany gelled ways a few months ago, but even though it held fast an unruly element, it made him look older, more grown up than he had even been. Greg had started to take his new job seriously, and had started to look, well, like an adult. He looked old enough to be marrying his Sara, but Grissom knew that it was the kid inside that she adored.

He turned his attention back to his paperwork as Greg turned the coffee maker on, and grabbed Sara to demonstrate a goofy version of a ballroom dip. For the first time in his life, he was grateful for a hearing problem, he didn't want to hear Sara's laughter ringing down the halls.

He wanted to readily accept their relationship, like Warrick, support it even, like Catherine. He wanted to let Greg know that he too would execute him and hide the evidence if he ever caused her any pain, just like Nick. Their love, however, had made things well, more pleasant in the lab. The CSIs got along with the lab techs; the lab techs seemed to have forgotten how to gossip, instead focusing on the upcoming wedding in the department.

Sara and Greg remained mostly professional when on the clock, from what he observed, they had always been that professionally compatible, and Greg was rapidly advancing in the field, showing signs of being one of the brightest CSIs Vegas had ever seen.

Sara had done what he had thought was impossible to do, and had found happiness in the process. She had mentored Greg, helping him ease from lab rat to field mouse. He responded to her teaching, absorbing anything she said and everything she did like a massive sponge. Sara had, unlike him, been able to become intimately involved with her prodigy, and had done so without stepping over any boundaries. Greg had, in return of her affections, done what Grissom had been trying to do for years: he crumbled the wall around her heart, and dismantled her guard. He made her be who she was on the inside, all the time.

Yes, he thought. Greg was good for Sara; he made her younger. Sara was good for Greg; she made him older. He glanced up, and watched Sara and Greg discussing the case. They were relocating, walking down the hall, heading towards the layout room with a stack of photos and a cardboard box of evidence. Sara-the-mentor was explaining some aspect of their case to Greg-the-student, in the cool professional manner that he had always upheld. The difference between him and Sara, however, was that Sara did anything but hold Greg at an arms distance.

They were his best team. Better than Nicky and Warrick. Better than himself and Catherine. He silently cursed the younger man for stealing the one good thing about life at the Las Vegas Crime lab. It was his own fault, however, that either of them had come to Vegas in the first place, bringing Sara here years ago, and having a hand in hiring Greg in the lab before that.

Sara had waited patiently for him to come around, all these years. Time and again, he chose science over emotion. What was it that Catherine had said about Sara's biological clock ticking? Did he really think that she was going to wait her whole life for him to choose her over bugs?

He had had a hypothetical conversation with Sara some ten years ago in San Fransisco about marriage and children. As he recalled, she had smiled wearily at him, and recited Voltaire's words, "Marriage is the only adventure open to the cowardly." When they reached the issue of children, she had taken a deep breath, and stated that while he was able to take his time, she had to think carefully and plan ahead if procreation was to be one of her life goals.

………

"Gris?" Greg's entrance into his office startled him out of his musings over his loss of the love of his life. He looked up, and met the younger man's gaze.

"What can I do for you, Greg?" He removed his glasses and sat back in his chair.

"Uh, well, nothing, I'm heading out to interrogate the brother with the drugs with Brass, Sara and I think he's our man, but I was walking past, and you seemed out of it a bit." The younger CSI knitted his brow in concern. "Are you ok?"

"Perfect." It was a lie, but he was good at them.

"Alrighty then, boss." Greg broke into a wide grin. "I just made more coffee if you're interested." Greg started to leave, and Grissom found himself calling him back.

"Greg."

"Yessir." Greg leaned against the doorjamb.

"My congratulations on your good news." He watched loathingly as Greg's lopsided grin stretched wider.

"Thank you sir." It wasn't that he loathed Greg, it was that he loathed the idea of anyone loving Sara besides himself. He liked Greg, genuinely. He thought of Greg as the apprentice that would soon be surpassing all of them in his talent and abilities. Yes, he liked Greg. He just didn't like Greg loving Sara.

He made his way to the door when Greg had continued down the hall, and watched his retreating form. Greg had thrust his arms through his sweater, and yanked it over his head, pausing at the door to the locker room.

"Hand 'em over, Sara Jane… No, I'm totally driving… You promised." The grin on his face as he leaned against the locker room door was reminiscent of the quirky lab tech he used to be, and Grissom turned back to his office, not wanting to bear witness to their happiness any longer.

Who was he kidding; he could never make her smile as bright as she does when she's around Greg. It wasn't that she had stopped waiting for him; he knew she would eventually. It was the ease in which Greg came into her life, and made it better, making the act of loving Sara Sidle look so easy, it left him wondering if loving her had always been that easy, and it was him with the problem.

He had made a promise to Sara, one that he kept to himself, that he would make sure her story had a happy ending. Now that promise was no longer his to make. They could have been happy, they could have dated and married and had children, and sat back in old age and watched them grow. It was his fault the diamond on her finger wasn't his family heirloom, his fault her children wouldn't look like him.

Grissom sat back down at his desk, and cast a forlorn gaze towards the stack of paperwork he had to get through before his meeting with Ecklie in the morning. His happiness was never a variant in the equation.

If Greg made Sara happy, that was enough for him.

A/N: I really do feel bad for Grissom… But he did it to himself.


End file.
